


The Lament of Dean Winchester

by Wayward_Rangers_Daughter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood and Gore, Character Death, Mark of Cain, Self-Harm, Torturer Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-09 18:03:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11109960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayward_Rangers_Daughter/pseuds/Wayward_Rangers_Daughter
Summary: What if Dean had killed Sam instead of Death that night?





	1. Brother, forgive me.  We both know I'm the one to blame!

**Author's Note:**

> I Own Nothing,
> 
> This is just a what if AU.  
> Warning: There will be self-harm in later chapters and this first chapter is very descriptive with the details of Sam's death. 
> 
> You Have Been Warned!
> 
> I based the title of fic and the first chapter off of the song title and lyrics from "The Lament of Eustace Scrubb" by The Oh Hello's. 
> 
> https://youtu.be/QHlTMxBzguI 
> 
> \-------------------------------------------------

Dean doubled over in anguish, retching as the sound of his brother’s head rolling across the floor etched itself into his consciousness. He had finally done what John had told him to do so many years ago, Kill Sammy. Kneeling on the cold bar floor, he was aware that Death was speaking to him, though he couldn’t tell what the man was saying, because all he could hear was the squelch of blood and the sound of a body and head hitting the floor, playing on repeat in his mind. Sobbing Dean collapsed onto all fours before quickly flinging himself backwards as his hands came in contact with the warm blood that leaked from his brother’s corpse.  Looking down through the tears, Dean stared at his hands in horror, he had Sam’s blood on his hands both figuratively and literally.  He had done as Death asked, he had done what he was so sure was right, now all he could feel was a sense of wrongness. Dean bent over and threw up again as the reality that he had just murdered his baby brother, sunk in. A reality that he would have to live with for the rest of his interminably long life. Cain’s words echoed in his head as he let out a primal cry of grief.

Death watched as Dean swung the syth, severing Sam’s head. In truth, he had half expected Dean to change his mind, to refuse to kill his brother. The fact that he had followed through with the execution, proved to Death how far the mark had corrupted the Hunter. Watching as Dean broke down, he tried to comfort the man, but his words fell on deaf ears. Sighing, he retreated to the bar, to wait for Dean to calm.

After what seemed like hours, Dean managed to regain control. Rising to his feet the hunter turned to Death. “I need to bury him first.” without waiting for a response, Dean walked out of the Bar.

Death followed him out after a few minutes and found Dean building a hunter’s pyre in the parking lot, near the Woodline. He stood watching as Dean moved back and forth carrying log after log.  Sighing. Death moved back into the Bar. Loath as he was to get involved, he realized that Dean needed this closure, and he also knew it would be torturous for the man to have to gather his brothers body. By the Time Dean returned inside, Death had wrapped Sam and his head in a shroud, leaving the face uncovered so Dean could say goodbye.

Dean approached where Sam was laid out, tears bubbling to the surface as he looked at his baby brothers face. He looks asleep, but Dean knew that the carefully wrapped shroud was all that was keeping his head where it should be.  Kneeling, Dean sobbed as he gently stroked Sam’s hair, “I’m so sorry Sammy. I’m Sorry, little brother. I love you Sammy.” Taking the loose cloth Dean finished wrapping Sam and then hoisted his body off the floor.

Death followed as Dean returned to the Pyre and laid his brother on it.  He watched as Dean took out his lighter and once lit, chucked it onto the corpse. He was silent, as Dean stood by his side as they watched the flames consume the younger Winchester, nodding as Dean thanked him for preparing Sam’s body.

Once the flames died down, Dean turned to Death with a grim expression, “OK, do it.”

Death smiled sadly, “Goodbye Dean.” and sent the young hunter to a distant planet, hospitable but void of any beings that Dean could harm.

_______________________________________________________________________

Chuck sat up in his bed, a cold sweat matting his hair and making his pajamas stick to him. “WHAT THE FUCK!” Snapping fresh clothing on himself, Chuck vanished, only to appear beside the still smoldering pile of ash outside of the bar. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” Running a hand through his hair in frustration, Chuck began to pace back and forth. “DEATH!”

Death appeared a few feet away and regarded Chuck with a tired expression, “Yes?”

Gesturing wildly to the smoldering ash and then around in general, Chuck sputtered, “What...Why...How...WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO? and where the hell is Dean?”

Death shook his head, “I sent Dean somewhere that he can no longer cause harm to himself or others. And Sam was trying to remove the mark, he almost succeeded too. You know what that would mean. He would have never stopped trying to save his brother if he were still alive.”

“SO YOU KILLED HIM?”

“Actually, Dean killed him.”

Chuck recoiled, as he tried to process that, “He…He what? No, no, no, no. That, that can’t be. He loves his brother, he went to Hell for Sam.”

Death shrugged and looked around them before settling Chuck with a bored expression. “As always, you underestimate the mark. It corrupted him, just as it did your precious Lucifer.”

Chuck shook his head in disbelief. Turning back to the pile of Ash he snapped his fingers and in a blinding flash of light, resurrected Sam.

Sam lay on a pile of ash, coughing and sputtering and he tried to drag in breath. Scrambling to his feet he looked around in confusion before his Eyes fell on the two men who stood a few feet away Arguing.

“Chuck?”

The man in question, turned to Sam with a grimace, “Hello, Sam”

“What, What happened, and why are you here? Did…did you get another vision?” Sam looked between Chuck and Death in such confusion that it made Chuck’s heart ache. 

“Look, Sam… The thing is I’m…”

Death was quickly growing tired and cut Chuck off, “He’s not a prophet, he’s GOD.”

Sam stared open mouthed, looking between the two as his brain tried and failed to compute. “What?”

Chuck sighed and snapped his fingers, watching as Sam almost gave himself whiplash looking down at his now glowing pocket. quickly reaching in he pulled out Dean’s amulet and stared in shock as it glowed brightly. Looking from Chuck to the amulet repeatedly Sam swallowed hard and slowly sunk to his knees, unable to form word.

Chuck flinched as Sam knelt, looking at him with wide eyes that held a complex mixture of terror, wonder, and hope. “Sam, it’s ok. Just breathe.”

Sam quickly closed his mouth and stuffed the amulet back in his pocket. He swallowed hard before opening his mouth to speak, “Chuck… Um… I guess I don’t call you that now, Um..”

“Actually, I prefer it. And please get up, the whole bowing thing always made me deeply uncomfortable.”

Sam scrambled to do as he was told, unconsciously falling into a parade rest as he would have with John, his mind still trying to compute everything that had happened.


	2. When I saw my demons I knew them well and welcomed them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self-harm and angst in this chapter!  
> \----------------------

Dean watched as the blood dripped in a slow staccato onto the ground. Raising the knife, he sliced another deep gash into his left arm just above the first. Hissing in pain, Dean slumped back against the tree he was sitting against. Lowering the blade, Dean watched the blood drain out of his arm. He had cut himself deep enough to hurt excruciatingly, but not deep enough to kill. Absently he thought of how his skills as a torturer that he had picked up in Hell were so useful to him now. After all, he deserved eternity on the rack for what he did to Sammy.  Shifting slightly Dean sighed as he reached for the bandage to tie around his arm. As much as he wanted to, Dean knew he couldn’t bleed out, and he wasn’t sure the mark wouldn’t make him a knight of hell again if he did die. Once he was done with the bandage Dean looked down to the pictures of his family, stained with Sammy’s blood. Choking on a sob, the hunter closed his eyes against the tears, leaning his head back and allowing the pain from the various cuts he had inflicted to wash over him, drowning out the images of his little brother’s headless body.  

Chuck appeared near Dean and was unable to stop the horrified gasp as he laid eyes on the hunter. Dean was slumped against a tree, his exposed torso covered in various cuts and flayed patches that stretched from his neck to his Jeans and down his arms. Chuck resisted the urge to gag as he realized that some of the flayed bits were leaching fresh blood. Dean’s left arm was also sluggishly bleeding through the makeshift bandage. The fact that the hunter hadn’t reacted to Chuck’s presence told the man that Dean was unconscious, most likely from pain or blood loss. Edging forward Chuck crouched down and laid a gentle hand on the hunter’s arm transporting them back to Earth.

\-------------------------

Sam stood, staring at the congealing puddles of blood, his blood, that stained the floor of the bar. He felt bile rise in his throat. Tears leaked down the hunter’s face as his breath hitched as the memory of Dean telling him to close his eyes washed over him. The pain in his brother’s voice before he swung the scythe would be branded in Sam’s memory forever.

Death stood off to the side, watching the younger Winchester silently. Shaking his head, the gaunt man moved towards the counter where Chuck had left some snacks for him.

Sam jumped as Chuck appeared with an unconscious Dean. Rushing forward, Sam helped Chuck lay Dean on the pool table, and began examining his brother, “What happened to him?”

Chuck shook his head, “I’m not sure, but Dean was clutching this” Chuck held up a bloody pocketknife. “I think the wounds are self-inflicted. Did he have any of these prior?”

Sam shook his head and began trying to stem the bleeding from Dean’s left arm, “No. He was fine, or mostly fine. We had a fight before, but it was just a few punches. Dean was bruised, not… not this!” Sam waved his hand to indicate the many wounds. “I took most of the beating in that fight anyways!”

Dean groaned, and his eyes flashed open. Looking around he struggled to sit up, only to be pushed back down by Sam. “Great, now I’m hallucinating. Fan-Fucking-Tastic!”

Sam frowned at Dean, “Dean, you’re not hallucinating.”

Dean shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears, muttering hoarsely, “you’re not real…you’re not real. This is just my stupid mind playing tricks.”

Sam shook his brother, “Dean, look at me! I’m real! This isn’t a hallucination.”

Panic began to settle in as Dean opened his eyes. Looking around the room Dean began to feel nauseous as he realized that he was back on earth. He looked to where Death was seated at a nearby table, munching on a churro with a sour expression, and felt the world begin to spin out. “What?”

Chuck moved into Dean’s vision range and sighed, “Dean, did you do this to yourself?” he gesture to Deans body.

Dean nodded slowly, “Um…Ya…I…” Blinking a few times Dean looking up at Sam with tears in his eyes. “This can’t be real… I…I ki…killed you.”

Sam felt tears sting his eyes as he looked into his brother’s pain filled eyes.

Clearing his throat Chuck stepped closer, “Dean, I assure you, all of this is real. You’re back on Earth, Sam is alive, and we are going to work all of this out.”  Reaching forward, Cuck tapped Dean on the head and healed him, causing the hunter to jump off the table and stared at Chuck. “What the..”

Sam laid a steadying hand on his older brother’s shoulder, “Um… Dean. Wow, this is odd. Um… Chuck is God.”

Dean just blinked a few times, looking down at his now healed body in shock before looking back at Chuck. “OK…”

Chuck smiled shyly, “We should probably talk”

Dean just nodded slowly before looking back at Sam, “How?”

Sam shrugged, “Chuck brought me back.”

Dean looked at Chuck, “Thank you!”

Chuck just shrugged, “What can I say, I like you guys.”

Turning back to Sam, Dean pulled his baby brother into a fierce hug, “Sammy, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I...”

Sam hugged Dean back just a hard, “It’s alright Dean. It’s all going to be alright.”


	3. Father, have mercy, I know that I have gone astray

 

The screaming sound of the removal spell, was the only warning the men received before what looked like purple lightning shattered through the roof of the Bar and struck Dean’s arm, dissolving the mark.

Dean collapse to his knees with a strangled yell, as the lighting shot back out of the roof. Climbing to his feet, the eldest Winchester looked at the others, “Well that can’t be good.”

Death just rolled his eyes before disappearing with the rest of the food. Chuck turned to Sam with a thunderous expression. “What did you do?”

Sam swallowed and looked at chuck in fear, “We…I, found a… a spell in the book of the damned. To remove the mark… I…”

Chuck raised his hand to silence Sam as the hunter flinched back from the obviously upset deity. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Sam shook his head jerkily as he backed away from Chuck.

Dean rushed to place himself between Sam and Chuck, not sure how he would stop the enraged deity, but hoping to at least give his baby brother a chance to run. “Look, I’m sure we can fix whatever it is that…”

Chuck raised a surprised eyebrow at the hunters, “Fix? You’re joking, right? Dean, there is no fixing this. The mark wasn’t just some curse. It was a key, a key that kept the Darkness from consuming the universe. You thought Armageddon was supposed to be bad? Just wait.” Knocking Dean to the side gently Chuck approached Sam, who had begun to shake as he realized just what he had done. As Chuck came within arm’s reach of him, Sam closed his eyes, fully expecting that Chuck was about to erase him from existence.

“Where are they doing the spell?”

Sam opened his eyes to an annoyed Chuck, crossing his arms and staring at the hunter like an exasperated parent.  Looking between Dean and Chuck, Sam stammered, “An, um.. A Wearhouse in…”

Before he could finish his sentence Chuck transported all three of them to where the spell had been performed.

As they disappeared, none of the travelers saw the thick black clouds that engulfed the bar.


End file.
